Form of Freedom
by xenu1275
Summary: Team Gai rescues the lone survivor of a massacre, whose secrets may threaten Konoha itself. Lots of violence. The last chapter is now up. Please review -- I would especially like some feedback on the ending.
1. A Single Cry

_A Single Cry_

Just before dawn an echoing cry of pain had disturbed their sleep. By midmorning, they had tracked its source to a small clearing where dappled sunlight fell in green and gold shafts upon a campsite soaked with blood.

"Only one scream. . . ." murmured Tenten, her eyes widening as she took in the surrounding tree trunks, blood-spattered up their entire visible height, the mulch of twigs and rotting leaves beneath their feet, dyed a brownish maroon, and the outstretched branches overhead, flecked with glutinous drying droplets. It did not seem to any of them that all this blood could have come from a single victim, much less a single wound.

"Their attackers must have tried to silence them first, before getting to work," said Neji. "And were almost completely successful, except for one cry." His voice was calm and steady; to his team he appeared cold and analytical. Inwardly, though, he was shaken.

_Whoosh!_ Neji spun to the right, tensed for an attack, and Tenten yelped and reflexively drew a _kunai_ in each hand. But there was only Lee, his fist in the middle of an inches-deep crater he had just punched in the bark of the nearest tree. As they watched he withdrew his fist and slammed the other hand into the same spot, sinking the hole an inch or so deeper.

"A cry for help!" he shouted, between punches.

_Whoosh!_ Small pieces of bark went flying.

"That we heard!"

_Whoosh!_ Bits of yellowish splintered hardwood were mingled with the bark this time.

"And were too slow -- "

_Whoosh!_

"—to respond to—"

_Whoosh!_

"—too slow to do any good—"

Before Lee could hit the tree again, Neji, having recovered from his shock and moved to stand behind Lee, caught his upper arm and yanked him backward, throwing him off-balance and spinning him away from the tree.

"Do you mean to knock that tree down?" Neji asked evenly, as Lee straightened up and turned toward him. The tree swayed precariously, groans issuing from it as if of pain. "Or maybe you just wanted to get the attention of whoever spilled all this blood?"

For a moment Lee's face registered startlement as he took in Neji's words. Clearly in his anger it had not occurred to him that last night's attackers might still be in the area. But then his expression darkened, became rebellious.

"I hope I got their attention! I hope they come back, so I can fight them! Anyone who attacks their victim in their sleep to do _this_" – gesturing at the surrounding carnage—"is a coward who must be punished!"

"But you don't know that's what happened, Lee," said Tenten, picking her way gingerly toward them across the bloody forest floor. "Neji was just guessing, and anyway being caught off guard doesn't make someone an innocent victim. This could have been the site of a battle between two groups of ninja, or where escaped criminals were apprehended, or anything at all. We just don't know."

Neji nodded in agreement, and added, "In any case revenge is not part of our mission. We're supposed to be headed back to village now, to deliver our report." They were returning to Konoha after a recognizance mission to the Land of Earth.

Lee gaped. "But you can't mean that we're just going to walk away from this! Why did we even bother to find this place, then?"

Tenten turned to Neji, frowning slightly. "Lee's got a point," she said. "Shouldn't we at least have a look around, try to find out what happened?"

"Hm . . ." Neji considered. They were very close to Konoha now, and any encounter of this violence and magnitude so near to home must certainly be of concern to the Hokage. "Yes, we'll take a few hours to investigate. You two look around the clearing for discarded weapons, clothing, anything. I'll scan the surrounding hills." With that he turned his back on them and strode to the opposite side of the clearing, facing outward into the forest. Mollified, Lee joined Tenten as she used the tip of her _kunai_ to turn over bloodied leaves and rocks in search of clues.

All around the clearing, the forest was a shadowy mass of green that quickly swallowed normal vision. But Neji's vision was not normal; he made the necessary hand signs, murmured "Byakugan," and instantly the dimly lit scene before him was limned in vivid glowing blue. The thicket of underbrush was now a delicate neon lacework, the stout trunks of trees radiant bundles of twined blue rope that rose high overhead to branch again and again before terminating in innumerable pale wedge shapes – leaves. Myriad small animals stood out clearly, their glow more intense by an order of magnitude than the vegetation's. Behind him, invisible to normal eyes but not to Neji's Byakugan, Tenten and Lee were like hot blue bonfires, shining with the power they had worked all their lives to acquire and refine. Chakra infused all life, from the blades of grass to the majestic oaks, and all of it, every line, pulsed in time to a subtle rhythm that Neji's gift enabled him to see but not understand.

Neji, Tenten and Lee were the only humans within a 50-meter radius. Neji extended his range out to 100 meters, and perceived, to the northwest, a figure crouched behind a boulder. It was clearly a woman, clearly a low-level shinobi, but there was something odd about her chakra network – the flow did not conform to the usual pattern, but instead seemed subtly displaced, and he could not make out her _tenketsu_ at all.

"Anything?" asked Lee, appearing at his elbow and peering off to the northwest, in which direction Neji now faced.

"Yes," said Neji calmly. "We are being watched."

"What?!" exclaimed Tenten, nearly dropping the large pile she'd been collecting as she straightened up and also turned northwest.

"It's a kunoichi, and she knows we're here," continued Neji. "She's about 95 meters that way" – he pointed – "behind a rock. She's facing us, and keeps peering over the rock to try to get a better look."

With a _Clang!_ Tenten dropped the contents of her arms, drawing a tightly wrapped scroll from her pack in the same movement. Lee also tensed up, then settled into the fighting pose he'd learned from Gai. "What should we do?" he asked, shooting a quick glance over at Neji.

Neji, the only _jounin_ among them, was their captain on this mission. The decision to attack was ultimately his. But he remained relaxed, his arms folded in a posture of measured confidence. "If she'd wanted to attack," he said, "she'd have done it earlier, when we were distracted. She's just watching, gathering information, like us. She may not have even been involved in the incident here. " He paused, thinking for a moment. "But she might have seen something." He abruptly uncrossed his arms and strode off in her direction, motioning behind him to Lee and Tenten as he did so. "You two stay here."

"Wha--" began Tenten in outrage while Lee sputtered, and Neji turned swiftly back so they could see his face, see he was utterly serious.

"She already knows we're here," he said, as they subsided at his expression. "I believe the fact that she has neither attacked nor run away means she'll be willing to talk. And I can tell from here that she is no match for me." Then he took off into the underbrush, making absolutely no effort at stealth.

Lee and Tenten exchanged uneasy glances, and neither of them relaxed their battle-ready postures. But they remained in the clearing, not talking and tensely scanning the dark forest for any sign of Neji.

Within minutes he was back, supporting a short brown-haired young woman who wore no headband and a coarse baggy brown shift. Her hands were encased in long ill-fitting black gloves that disappeared up into her sleeves. She looked quite disheveled, her long hair coming loose from its ponytail and her face wan and dirty. When, assisted by Neji, she entered the clearing, the brighter light there revealed huge bloodstains all over her clothing, most notably on her right sleeve and all down her right side. Neji lowered her carefully onto a flattish rock, where she panted for a moment before looking up at Lee and Tenten to say tiredly, "I'm Benihiko Chyoubi. Nice to meet you."

***

They had all assumed Benihiko's bloodstains came from terrible injuries, but she denied this and point-blank refused to accept basic first aid.

"I'm fine," she said. "Do you think I would still be conscious if I had lost all this blood? I got a few scrapes, but most of this isn't mine."

"Then whose is it?" asked Tenten.

Benihiko sighed and raised an arm to encompass the whole clearing. "It belongs to the same people as all of this," she said. "My family."

Lee started, and even Neji's eyes widened. "But . . ." said Tenten, "for someone who just lost her family, you don't seem very . . . . I mean, you're not exactly. . ."

"We weren't close," said Benihiko flatly, cutting off Tenten's embarrassed fumbling. "I was adopted, and weaker than everyone else, and they never let me forget it. We were a clan of nomadic ninjas who made a living by stealing and murdering. But my only role was menial stuff – cooking, cleaning, that sort of thing. Of course we made a lot of enemies along the way, and I guess last night some of them caught up to us. By the time I woke up almost everyone was either dead or dying. I only managed to escape by crawling out from under our tent and creeping across the ground into the forest. That's when I got covered in blood – there was already a lot of it on the ground."

Benihiko's delivery of this explanation was utterly emotionless, just a dry recitation of rehearsed facts. Neji didn't believe a word of it.

"If so many people died here," he asked, "where are the bodies?"

Benihiko glanced at him through bloodshot green eyes, then shrugged and looked at the ground. "The enemy probably took the bodies. For their secrets, you know – not everyone in the clan was as useless as me."

"Neji," said Tenten tentatively, "I _did_ find a lot of discarded and broken weapons, of the type ninja use." She stuck a foot out to prod the heap of wicked-looking metal implements she had amassed during her search, eliciting ringing and clanging noises as the pile shifted and settled. "It does seem that some type of battle took place here."

Neji spared a glance for the pile, then turned back to look hard at Benihiko. "Of that," he said, "I have no doubt." She raised her eyes from the ground to return his look, her jaw set defiantly and her eyes like chips of flint.

"You don't believe me," she said.

"No," he replied.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Neji's eyes narrowed. "I am going to take you back to Konoha and turn this investigation over to people who will get answers. If you've committed some crime, if you're plotting something, they'll uncover it."

Benihiko's tired expression brightened somewhat as she gave a small smile. "Then," she said, "there's no problem. Konoha was my destination anyway."

Neji managed to hide the uneasiness this pronouncement elicited in him as he had Tenten pack up the weapons she had found and sent Lee to collect samples from the blood spatter in the clearing. From his choice to locate the source of the pre-dawn cry to his decision to take Benihiko back to Konoha, he had done nothing more than his duty. Yet he had begun to feel as if all of this had proceeded according to Benihiko Chyoubi's design.


	2. Art and Revelations

_Art and Revelations_

The delivery of Benihiko to the village was oddly anticlimactic. Lady Tsunade took one look at her and sent her off with Sakura to the hospital, while Neji, Tenten and Lee delivered their intelligence from the Land of Earth and recounted the events of their journey home.

"I'll admit her story doesn't add up," said Lady Tsunade. "But I won't have her interrogated without more evidence." She gazed pensively at the door through which Sakura and Benihiko had exited some minutes earlier. "Something makes me think she didn't come here to do us any harm."

"I agree," said Lee earnestly. "To me she seems like a victim in all this. Perhaps she needs our help."

Neji shook his head. It was predictable that Lee would sympathize with Benihiko, what with her story of being mistreated because of her weakness. But if all she wanted was their help, why lie to them?

He was just about to voice his misgivings when Tenten spoke. "Lady Tsunade," she began nervously, "no matter how badly they treated her, you'd think she'd be more upset about the death of her entire family. And if their enemies wanted to wipe out the whole clan, wouldn't they make sure they'd gotten _everyone_? Why would they just let her go?"

"There is also," Neji added, before Lee or the Hokage could reply, "the matter of her chakra."

This got the Hokage's attention. "Didn't you say," she asked, tearing her eyes from the door to look at him, "that you'd looked at her with your Byakugan, and judged her to be rather weak?"

Neji nodded once, briskly, and answered, "Yes. The refinement of her chakra certainly indicates she's a shinobi, but the overall level of it was no more than that of a _genin_. I'd say it was impossible for her to have killed enough ninja to account for the blood in the clearing, except . . ." He paused, realizing now that he'd started that to make his argument he was going to have to do something he detested – admit weakness.

"Except?" Lady Tsunade prompted.

There really wasn't any way out of it. "Except that there are some things about her chakra flow I didn't understand," Neji admitted. "It's a bit different from a normal human's, like it's shifted somehow, and I couldn't see her _tenketsu_."

Beside him, Lee and Tenten made noises of surprise. "But Neji, you never told us that!" said Lee. "What could cause it? Were you maybe too low on chakra to see properly?"

"Of course I wasn't," said Neji icily, without turning his head. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Lee redden slightly. "I could see yours and Tenten's perfectly. I don't know why Benihiko's were invisible. What's more, there was something odd about her right arm."

"Something odd?" asked Tenten. "What do you mean?"

"In the rest of her body," said Neji, "her chakra network is clearly visible, even if it is a bit strange. But on the way back I took another look at her, and from just below her right shoulder all the way to her fingertips, the network is missing. Instead there's just a swirling mass of chakra, as if the chakra is diffused evenly throughout her whole arm."

Tsunade frowned. "That _is_ strange," she conceded. "I've never heard of such a thing." She was silent for a moment, tapping her fingers on the desk, then she suddenly rose and moved toward the door. "I'll go treat her injuries myself. That way I can try to get to the bottom of this." Halting to open the door, she glanced over her shoulder at them. "You three have done a good job. Consider this out of your hands now – it will be taken care of." With that she exited the office, leaving them alone.

"Well," said Tenten after a moment, to no one in particular, "I guess that's it then. We should just forget about her."

"Until she tries to go through with whatever she's planning," said Neji darkly, to which neither Lee nor Tenten had any reply.

***

But over the next few months, Neji nearly did forget about Benihiko. The village was quiet, his missions were successful, and there was no news of any kind about the woman they had brought back with them that day. Returning from delivering a report to the Hokage one afternoon, Neji spotted an unlikely pair in front of the hospital: Sakura and Hinata, deep in conversation.

"Neji-nii san," said Hinata by way of greeting when he approached them.

"Hinata-sama," he replied, nodding at her. "And Sakura."

"Neji," said Sakura, "it's good you're here. I've been wanting to ask you about that woman you brought to the village a while back, Benihiko Chyoubi."

Neji's eyes narrowed. "What about her? What's she done?"

Sakura gave him an odd look. "Nothing as far as I know. I just wanted to know if you remembered anything else from your trip back to the village with her – any little comment she might have made that you didn't repeat to the Hokage."

Neji thought a moment, then shook his head. "Not really. She didn't talk much. Why?"

Sakura's green eyes flicked toward Hinata's white ones; the girls exchanged the briefest of glances before Sakura shrugged and said, "I guess it doesn't matter if we tell you. Lady Tsunade asked us to get to know Benihiko, find out as much about her as we can."

"She thought befriending Benihiko might be more effective than directly questioning her," explained Hinata. "And she thought Sakura and I could do it because we have, um, certain things in common with her." Hinata blushed as she finished, her voice quieting to barely more than a whisper and her eyes falling from Neji's face to her own feet. Neji could guess what those "certain things" might be – both Hinata and Sakura had been considered weak by their comrades, and Hinata in particular had suffered terribly for failing to live up to her clan's high standards. He had personally inflicted some of that suffering.

"I see," he said simply. He had no intention of reopening old wounds. "But it's not going well?"

"No," said Sakura, running a hand through her pink hair in frustration. "Benihiko is friendly enough, but she won't talk about herself. I think she suspects something. The only subject she speaks freely on is sculpting."

"Sculpting?" asked Neji, thinking maybe he'd heard her wrong.

"Oh yes," said Sakura grimly. "Haven't you heard? Everyone's been talking about Master Yakuho's new apprentice." Master Yakuho was Konoha's most eminent sculptor, a man whose works regularly sold for as much as a small village. He was famous for his skill, and for his harshness with students.

"No, I haven't heard anything about that," Neji replied. In truth he didn't really have any interest in art, or in anything that did not connect to his work. Tenten had once cited this as evidence that he lacked a personality. "What's it got to do with Benihiko?"

"Um, Benihiko _is_ Master Yakuho's new apprentice," said Hinata. "She's the first student he's taken on in ten years."

Sakura was nodding. "The day after she got here, when we were still treating her in the hospital, she asked me for the location of his studio. When I found out that she wanted to work with him, I tried to talk her out of it – I told her Yakuho was a demanding perfectionist, and that he was famous for humiliating his students, but she didn't care. She went straight from the hospital to see him. I guess she persuaded him to let her demonstrate some of her work, and he was so impressed he agreed on the spot to train her and let her live at the studio."

"Some of her works are already being displayed," added Hinata. "She's really quite gifted."

"But that's the only thing she'll talk about," sighed Sakura. "Different kinds of clay, kiln temperatures, engraving tools . . . the last time we went out with her, I contemplated hanging myself with a ramen noodle. I thought if I could tell Lady Tsunade you'd remembered something from your journey back, we'd at least have something to report."

"Sorry, can't help you," said Neji absently. He was a bit stunned by this turn of events – had Benihiko's plans for Konoha really included nothing more diabolical than pottery? It seemed too banal a goal for the only survivor of that massacre in the clearing. "Are you two going to see her now?"

"We'd planned on it," said Sakura. "One more try before I report failure to Lady Tsunade."

"Do you mind if I accompany you?" asked Neji. "I want to see for myself what she's done since we brought her here."

Sakura looked surprised for a moment, then shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said. "Get ready to be bored to tears."

They set off together for Master Yakuho's studio, which according to Sakura was just a short distance away. Neji supposed that in light of Yakuho's fame, he ought to have already known its location, but since there was no connection between pottery and ninjutsu he'd never taken the time to visit.

"Sakura," he asked as they walked, "did you and Lady Tsunade ever examine Benihiko's right arm?"

"Yes," she replied, looking over at him. "Lady Tsunade told me what you saw. But Neji, when we removed her gloves, both arms were perfectly normal. The only oddity was that I couldn't find a vein in the right arm, even when I used medical ninjutsu to search, so we had to draw blood from the left arm instead." Uncharacteristically, Sakura paused, seeming to hesitate over what she wanted to say next. "Are you—are you sure that you saw it clearly?" She looked at him fearfully, clearly worried she'd offended him.

Neji struggled to hide his annoyance. Sakura was only doing her job, after all. "Yes," he said crisply. "I'm quite sure."

"Um," said Hinata, and they both turned to look at her. She was blushing and staring fixedly at the street in front of her. "I used my Byakugan to look at her the other day, Sakura. I saw the same thing – there's no chakra network in her right arm."

"Really?" said Neji eagerly, as Sakura's eyebrows shot up. "Did you get a look at the rest of her network? Did it seem odd to you?"

"Y-yes," said Hinata, blushing a deeper shade of red. "It's like it's . . . shifted somehow. Its shape isn't quite like everyone else's."

"I saw the same thing," said Neji. "What about her _tenketsu_?"

At this Hinata turned such a vivid shade of red she was nearly purple. "I didn't see any," she said softly.

"Neither did I," said Neji. "I _knew_ there was something peculiar about her."

"But Neji-nii san," said Hinata even more softly, so that he had to lean toward her and strain to hear, "That's not what I meant. I can't see anybody's _tenketsu._"

"Oh," said Neji blankly. How stupid of him. Of course Hinata couldn't see _tenketsu_ – she had improved a lot in the years since her graduation from the Academy, but no amount of training would make her Byakugan as powerful as his. He hadn't meant to remind her of the difference in their capabilities, he'd just forgotten himself.

Before he could think of a way to apologize without patronizing her, Sakura spoke. "We're almost there," she said. "There's one more thing you should know, Neji. Lady Tsunade and I _did_ catch Benihiko in one lie. You said she told you she was adopted, and that the blood in the clearing was from her adoptive clan, right?" Neji nodded, and she continued, "But we tested the samples Lee brought back, and compared them to the samples we took from her. A lot of that blood belonged to Benihiko, even though we couldn't find any wound serious enough to account for it. And the rest of the blood belonged to a whole assortment of people whose DNA identifies them as Benihiko's biological family."

"Have you asked her about this?" demanded Neji, his _faux pas_ forgotten.

"Not yet," said Sakura. "I'm supposed to be her friend, remember? I didn't think it was a good idea to call her out on a lie. But maybe today I will, if I don't get anything useful out of her. Ah," she said, halting before an old-fashioned sliding wooden door with paper screens, "here we are."

Sakura slid the door open about six inches, calling out, "Benihiko! We're here, and we've brought someone you may remember!" Her voice had transformed instantly from the tense whisper in which she'd been discussing Benihiko's deception to the high-pitched tones of a frivolous young woman. Neji was impressed.

"Sakura," came a woman's voice from within, and through the narrow gap Neji saw a figure striding toward them out of the dimly lit interior. "And Hinata. How are you?" She reached the door, tugging on the top of one of a pair of long black gloves she had just finished pulling on, then reached up and opened the door the rest of the way.

She certainly looked better than the last time Neji had seen her. She was still clothed in a voluminous brown shift, but this one was made of a considerably more luxurious material than the original. Her hair, pulled up into a bun, was sleek and shiny. The gloves she had just put on were expensive-looking, made of fitted black leather. The most notable difference was in her face – far from looking tired, she seemed to exude an intense coiled energy. Her eyes were hard and glittering, her mouth set in a firm determined line. Neji thought he understood why Sakura's cute-girl act had failed to win Benihiko over, for this was a woman who looked like she had no time for frivolities.

"We're good, thanks!" said Sakura brightly. "And do you remember this person?" She gestured at Neji.

Benihiko's eyes shifted to him, and Neji nodded stiffly. "Ah yes," said Benihiko, her mouth curving up into a dry little smile. "My rescuer. Also my first accuser. Not the last, though. Your name is . . ." she frowned, staring at him as she tried to remember.

"Neji Hyuuga," he supplied. "I heard from Sakura about your accomplishments, and wanted to see for myself."

"I am afraid that Sakura exaggerates," said Benihiko. "I have only made a few pieces that Master Yakuho deemed worthy of display and sale. Mostly I make fodder for the trash heap. But you have the same last name as Hinata – are you two related?"

"Yes," said Neji, without elaborating. He suddenly didn't want her to know about the main branch and the side branch, about his own second-class status. Her eyes were too sharp and probing; he would not hand her weapons.

"Um," said Hinata, timidly breaking a short silence during which Neji was sure his omission of further detail had not gone unnoticed, "Can we see the pieces you've put out for display? Last time you said you weren't quite ready, that you were finishing one more piece."

Benihiko's expression softened when she looked at Hinata. Sakura had put on an aggressively bubbly front to try to befriend her, but it was clear that Hinata's unaffected kindness had been more successful. Benihiko, like nearly everyone else, obviously liked Hinata.

"Sure," said Benihiko. "I finished that piece yesterday. Come on inside." She stepped back from the doorway and beckoned at them.

"After you, Sakura and Hinata-sama," said Neji, gesturing his companions ahead of him. One by one they entered, Neji ducking slightly as he stepped inside the low doorway.

The shop was as old-fashioned within as it was without, though it was immaculately clean and scrupulously maintained, every surface shining like polished glass. Benihiko led them over yellow _tatami_ to a display case in the corner bearing her name. It contained a few tea bowls, made from the red clay favored by Yakuho, and an assortment of other objects that may have been useful in some capacity or may have been merely decorative — Neji couldn't tell.

"Oh!" breathed Hinata softly, crouching down to get a better look, and Neji had to agree. He was no expert, but even to his untrained eye the workmanship on these pieces appeared exceptionally detailed. There were birds that looked ready to leap from their shelves into the sky, and flowers whose petals were so exquisitely thin they could have been supported by the delicate stems of real plants.

"I see you're admiring the work of my best student," said a voice behind them, and they turned around to see Master Yakuho himself, a short balding man with bushy eyebrows and muscular forearms that contrasted oddly with his delicate artist's hands. Ignorant though he was of the world outside ninjutsu, Neji had heard terrifying stories about this man and his temper. Supposedly he'd once thrown a tea bowl whose quality he found wanting out his second-story window – followed shortly by the student who made it.

Now, though, he was positively beaming. It was hard to believe he could even frown, much less fly into a perfectionist rage. "In seventy years of sculpting, I've never seen such natural talent," he said. "Benihiko will soon be the equal of me in my prime."

"Don't exaggerate, master," said Benihiko, looking at the old man with real affection. "I still have much to learn from you."

"Are you going out again with your friends?" Yakuho asked, and at her nod he squinted at their headbands and said seriously, "Take care you don't handle any of their ninja weapons. We can't have you cutting your hands – too much work to do."

"Yes master," said Benihiko. "I'll be gloved, as usual."

"Good," said Yakuho. "Gloves are good. Don't know why I never thought of them myself – excellent way to protect the hands."

They stood to leave, and Yakuho saw them to the door. "Take good care of my student!" he called after them as they walked down the street, smiling and waving cheerfully from the entrance to his shop. "If anything happens to her, I'll break your skulls with a tea bowl!"

"_What_ is he going to do to us?" Sakura asked, frowning over her shoulder.

"Ignore him," said Benihiko casually. "He's really harmless."

"Okay, sure . . ." said Hinata dubiously.

Neji dropped back to walk beside Benihiko, Sakura and Hinata a little distance ahead. "So is that why you came?" he asked incredulously in a low voice. "To make pottery?"

Benihiko did not turn her head. "Is that so hard to believe?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I suppose it is, for you," she replied disdainfully. "Ninja believe only in violence, right? They don't create things, they destroy them."

Taken aback by the venom of her words, Neji paused to consider his response. "Ninja do kill," he said finally. "But they also save lives. Sakura there is a medical ninja, trained to use her control of chakra to cure the sick and heal the injured. I myself have served as a bodyguard a number of times. And ninja of _this_ village" – pride came into his voice – "never kill unless they have to."

"Really?" she asked, the word shaded with disbelief as delicate as one of her clay flower petals. "So when you're in a battle, you take the time to distinguish between the innocent and the guilty? When you accept a commission from a client, you check first to make sure that their cause is just?"

The honest answer to both of those questions was "no," but Neji felt she was holding the village to an impossible standard. No person, no matter what their profession, could be sure their every well-intentioned act had benign consequences. He said, "We are not perfect, of course. But under Lady Tsunade this village works to maintain peace and prevent widespread conflict. Force is often necessary to achieve these ends; it's naïve to expect otherwise."

"We'll see," she replied. "I've only been here a short time, and I haven't seen enough to decide yet whether Konoha really is as you say, or if it's just a bigger, richer version of my clan."

Neji opened his mouth to press his advantage and ask more about her clan, but she beat him to it, saying, "By the way, you called Hinata 'Hinata-sama' earlier. Why do you address her like that?"

Neji closed his mouth, irritated with himself for slipping and unsure how to respond without revealing anything. But then he saw that Sakura and Hinata were waiting in the doorway of a ramen shop, clearly their final destination. "I'm afraid I won't be joining you for dinner," he said loudly enough for them to hear. "I told Lee I would spar with him this evening." With that he nodded curtly to Benihiko and stepped past a puzzled-looking Sakura and Hinata to continue down the street. Benihiko watched him for a moment before ducking into the shop; he could feel her smirk burning into the back of his head.

When he was sure she had gone inside, he halted and spun around. Rapidly making hand signs, he looked at Benihiko through the walls of the restaurant. Her chakra network was as he recalled – just a bit off, with no visible _tenketsu_. Her right arm was also as he remembered. But her overall level of chakra was totally different from their first encounter. Then she had had only as much chakra as a _genin_, the lowest ninja rank. Now, though, her chakra level outstripped both Sakura's and Hinata's, and might even be greater than Neji's own. The only two explanations he could come up with were that she had managed to deceive the Byakugan – impossible – or that she had been severely weakened when they first met, as if from a massive loss of blood.

***

Neji did in fact go from the ramen shop to train. After his tense exchange with Benihiko, he felt the need to let off some steam. He hoped to run into Tenten or Lee, since solitary training was dull and, though he would never admit it openly, he genuinely enjoyed their company.

In spite of himself he was somewhat bothered by what Benihiko had said; he did not like to dwell on the violence of his profession. In the beginning he had become a ninja because he believed he had no other choice, taking his gifts as an indication that his fate was to be a shinobi. But he did not believe in fate anymore, and hadn't for a long time, and yet still he pushed himself daily to become stronger. Why?

Now, with the sun setting over the surrounding hills and flocks of birds soaring west after the fading light, he thought he knew the answer. It was Tenten and Lee, he thought, scanning the training grounds at the village's edge for any sign of them. It was also Sakura and Hinata, and Gai, Ino, Choji, Shikamaru, Kiba, Shino and even Naruto for whom he sought to get stronger. It was all his comrades and every inhabitant of this village, bound together with him in an unbreakable web of loyalty and sacrifice that was the essence of his duty and his life. That was what he should have explained to Benihiko – that bond among them, that will of fire.

Tenten and Lee were nowhere to be found, so Neji trained alone for a while, spinning out a few _kaiten_ before settling into the lotus position to work on extending his Byakugan's range and closing its blind spots. After two motionless hours he finally rose, exhausted in spite of the fact that he had not moved for some time. The Byakugan ate up massive quantities of chakra, and sustaining it for such a long period was invariably taxing. Tiredly he began the walk home.

A few meters past the gates of town he was nearly run over by Tenten, who had failed to see him in the dim light of dusk. "Neji!" she exclaimed. "There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you!"

"For me?" he asked, puzzled. He hadn't had any responsibilities that he was aware of, and it wasn't in his nature to forget.

"Yes!" said Tenten. "The Hokage wants you!" She grabbed his sleeve and started pulling him along the street, which he allowed only long enough to catch up to her hurried stride.

Tugging his sleeve out of her grasp, he said, "What's this about?"

"Benihiko," she said shortly.

Immediately he felt his heart rate quicken. Somehow the fact that he had seen her only today made all of this seem more urgent, and soon it was Tenten who had to work to keep up.

"What happened?" he asked her.

"I don't know. I only know that we were all summoned to the Hokage's office – you, me, Lee, Hinata, Sakura – and that it's somehow connected to Benihiko. You were the only one who couldn't be reached, and Lady Tsunade was adamant we find you before beginning anything."

During her explanation they had reached the red domed building which housed the Hokage's offices. The great crest of the Land of Fire emblazoned above the entryway glinted in the pale light cast by streetlights and stars as they climbed the winding stairs to the uppermost storey, where the Hokage's office could be found.

"I found him!" called Tenten as they burst through the door, into a room that seemed somewhat smaller than usual due to the number of people gathered there. Lee, Hinata, and Sakura were grouped together near the Hokage's desk, behind which stood Lady Tsunade and a wrinkled pair of village elders. Most conspicuous was a trio of ANBU operatives, masked and identically clad in gray and black. The ANBU operatives were indistinguishable, except that the middle one had his muscled arm extended to grip the shoulder of a young woman who stood with her back to him, hunched over and staring at the floor. By the long brown shift and coifed brown hair, Neji knew it was Benihiko.

"What's going on?" he demanded, striding past the ANBU operatives with their prisoner – for so she appeared – to face the Hokage across her desk.

"Now that you're here," said Tsunade briskly, "I can explain. These ANBU operatives" – she gestured carelessly at the trio – "have just come back from scouting in the immediate vicinity of the village. I sent them because a number of merchant convoys entering and leaving Konoha, some of them escorted by ninja, have been attacked only a day outside the village. In all cases, the merchandise was stolen and the entire party killed."

"The whole party?" asked Tenten, while the other_ chuunin_ made noises of astonishment. Neji said nothing, as did the ANBU operatives.

"I'm afraid so," said the Hokage gravely. "Most of the convoys were comprised only of civilians. Several included children. Even to them, the attackers showed no mercy."

"But, why hasn't anyone heard about this?" asked Lee. "You make it sound as if this has been going on for some time."

The Hokage closed her eyes briefly, then replied, "I wanted to keep it quiet in case whoever is behind these attacks has a spy in the village." One of the elders shot an accusing look at Benihiko, who did not look up. "But the information these ANBU operatives brought me can't wait. You see, they went to collect evidence from the sight of the attacks. Several other ANBU teams were dispatched before them, but this is the only one that returned."

Neji started and looked behind him at the ANBU squad. ANBU were supposed to be the best, invincible, yet Lady Tsunade was implying that a band of thieves had managed to take out several squads of them. Looking closely, he saw that this ANBU team was standing very tensely. The one in the center was gripping Benihiko's shoulder so forcefully his knuckles had gone completely white.

"What did they discover?" he asked.

"These are photos of the five attack sites they visited," said the Hokage, handing a stack of photographs to Tenten. "Neji, Lee, please take a look as well. Tell me what you think." She folded her arms and watched as Neji and Lee moved to stand behind Tenten and view the pictures.

They might have been copies of the same photo for all the differences between them. Every one showed a forest campsite, littered with trampled tents and human corpses. This should have been shocking enough, but the most notable aspect of the photos by far was the amount of blood – it was splashed liberally over the corpses, tents, and forest floor, and also the surrounding tree trunks and even the tree leaves overhead. Everything was dyed crimson; it was if the pictures had been done in monochrome for artistic purposes.

Tenten gasped and looked up at the Hokage. "But this is . . . "

"This looks just like the campsite where we found Benihiko!" said Lee.

"But these scenes include victims," observed Neji. "Couldn't this blood have come from them?"

"No," came a voice from behind one of the ANBU masks – the man in the center. "We examined the bodies of the victims. They all died of stab wounds, most of them directly to the heart. There was very little slashing, and most of the victims seem to have gone down after just one very precise strike. In other words, their wounds would not account for this much blood, nor for blood spatter reaching so high up the trees."

"Moreover," said the Hokage, "the ANBU brought me samples of blood from each of the sites they visited, which I have just tested against the samples you brought back with you. They matched."

Sakura gasped. "You can't mean they belong to Benihiko!"

"No," conceded the Hokage, "they don't. But at the very least" – here she turned to stare hard at Benihiko – "they belong to her relatives, the same relatives she told us died three months ago. And now, Benihiko, it is time for you to tell us the truth, and bear in mind that if I do not believe you I will do what I should have done three months ago, and call Ibiki in to interrogate you."

Benihiko raised her eyes from the floor to gaze out the Hokage's panoramic windows, where a silvery moon had now risen. She was very pale, and there was pain etched into her face. Whether this was from guilt or from the ANBU's vice-grip, Neji couldn't tell.

"It was my clan that did this," she said quietly, not taking her eyes from the moon outside. "The Chyoubi clan are thieves and murderers who attack civilians because they are easy prey."

"Did you help them?" demanded an elder. "Did you pass them information on convoy departure and arrival times?"

"No," said Benihiko. "I've had no access to such information, and I wouldn't share it with them if I did. They think I'm dead."

"Explain that," the Hokage ordered, over various exclamations of surprise.

"My clan," said Benihiko, "possesses a special jutsu, one that is passed on in our DNA. I believe you call such a thing _kekkei genkai_. Our chakra network is fused with our cardiovascular system. In other words, chakra literally flows in our veins. We fight by cutting ourselves to release blood, then manipulating the chakra within it to form projectiles. Our chakra and the intense life energy stored in blood mingle with iron to form flying blades that are sharper than any normal edged weapon, and whose flight can be controlled with precision. We call our jutsu the 'blood sculpting art.'"

Lady Tsunade let out the breath she'd been holding during Benihiko's explanation. "All right," she said, "but why does your clan think you're dead?"

"The Chyoubi are nomadic thieves," said Benihiko. "They live on the run and swear allegiance to no village or country. Their lives are violent, so they value only strength. I was never strong, so they did not value me. I in turn despised them for their murder of the innocent. When they planned to come to the Land of Fire, I decided to run away. In the forest near Konoha one night they found another band of nomadic ninja and decided to eliminate the competition. I didn't normally participate in battles, but this time I volunteered. While they were busy slicing up their victims I waited in the woods. Everything was done in complete silence, since the rival ninja had been caught in their sleep and didn't even have time to raise an alarm. When I saw my clan finish and depart, taking the bodies with them so they wouldn't alert Konoha to their presence too early, I entered the clearing and acted."

"What did you do?"

Benihiko finally looked away from the moon. She locked eyes with the Hokage, simultaneously raising her left arm to roll back the right sleeve of her shift. The ANBU holding her drew his sword and held it against her throat.

"Don't move another millimeter," he ordered.

Tsunade's eyes never left Benihiko's. "Let her go," she ordered. "I want to hear this."

"But—" began the ANBU, his sword trembling slightly.

"Now." The Hokage cut him off, still looking at Benihiko. The ANBU obeyed, releasing Benihiko and taking his sword from her throat. He did not sheathe his weapon, however, but stood feet behind the young woman, ready to behead her should he receive the order.

Benihiko recommenced rolling up her right sleeve, until her entire arm from the shoulder down was visible. Most of it was covered in her tight black glove, which she swiftly removed. Underneath, just as Sakura said, her arm appeared completely normal.

"Release," whispered Benihiko, and suddenly the skin of her arm, from her fingertips to just below the shoulder, seemed to dissolve, leaving behind a swirling crimson object, a human arm shaped of dark red liquid.

A blood sculpture.

"I cut off my arm," said Benihiko into the stunned silence. "It was more painful than I could have imagined, and though I tried to remain silent, I couldn't. I screamed, once." She looked at Neji. "I was heard."

"We didn't find an arm," said Neji, looking from her right arm to her hard green eyes. "What did you do with it?"

"The ability to heal wounds quickly and endure a lot of pain is a necessary part of our _kekkei genkai_," said Benhiko. "Without it I might have died or passed out before managing to sculpt this replacement. It was hard, with only one hand to make the hand signs. When I finished I hurried to catch up to my clan, who had also heard my cry and stopped to find its source. I placed the arm near them, spilled a little blood, and hid. When they found it they reached the obvious conclusion – that I had encountered one of the fleeing enemy in the woods after the attack, and been maimed and carried off to be killed more slowly. They chose not to send anyone after me, as I knew they would."

"Then you returned to the clearing," said Neji, "to wait."

Benihiko shook her head. "I didn't know you were coming," she answered. "I returned to the clearing because I knew my clan wouldn't find me there. Your arrival was just luck – I had planned to go to Konoha after my escape, and wasn't quite sure of the way."

"Why Konoha?" asked the Hokage.

"I should think that would be obvious," said Benihiko. "Master Yakuho. Even a nomad like me has heard of him, and sculpting runs in my blood."

Tsunade sat down heavily behind her desk, and pressed her hand over her eyes for a moment. Neji himself was having trouble absorbing it all, though Benihiko's story explained much that had seemed mysterious.

"So when your clan attacks," said the Hokage, lowering her hand to look again at Benihiko, "they always leave behind tremendous blood spatter?"

Benihiko nodded. "Once you release the jutsu, which you usually do the moment the projectile passes through the enemy, the sculpted projectile just reverts to its original state – blood. It splashes all over whatever surface is behind the target. In this case, it was trees."

"Even if I believe all this," said the Hokage, "—and it's a pretty fantastic story—I still don't understand why you lied to us from the beginning. If you had told us the truth, we could have gone after your clan earlier and prevented all this."

Now Benihiko's eyes lost some of their hardness. She bowed her head and said, "That was my mistake. I thought you would not allow me to stay if you knew the truth. My clan has done terrible things – I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want a Chyoubi in your village. I also thought the clan wouldn't stay for too long. They like easy targets, and Konoha is well defended. There are many powerful ninja here."

"You were wrong," said one of the ANBU harshly. "They've made themselves right at home."

"Yes" said Benihiko. "They have. I should have guessed this would happen. Lately the clan leader, my mother," –she winced—"had been talking about taking on more difficult targets, proving ourselves against other ninja. She believes our jutsu is invincible. But I was too caught up in my escape plan to realize just what she meant. You will have to remove them by force, Madame Hokage, or they will kill until there are no more victims left."

Lady Tsunade sighed. "I'd already determined that," she said. "What I want to know from you now are your clan's weaknesses. No jutsu is invincible – how do we beat yours?"

Benihiko paled visibly, and the ANBU behind her gripped his sword a little tighter. "It's time to make a choice," said the Hokage to Benihiko. "You say you are a woman of peace, that you abhor the crimes of your clan. But words mean nothing without action. To whom are you loyal – your clan, or Konoha?"

Benihiko stood up straighter. Her hands, both real and sculpted, curled into fists. "To Konoha," she said clearly. "I will help you to defeat my clan."

"Then you will give us information?"

"Yes. And I will also go to fight with whomever you send."

A lot of voices objected to this at once, among them Sakura's, Lee's, Tenten's, and one or more of the ANBU operative's. But Neji remained silent, staring at Benihiko, as did Hinata.

"Beni," she said after the shouting had subsided enough for her to be heard, "you said your clan hated you for being weak. But to sculpt an arm using chakra, and control it like a real one, would take chakra control beyond what even my clan is capable of. Is that what passes for weak in your family, or did you deceive them like you did us?"

Everyone fell silent immediately, looking first at Hinata, then at Benihiko. It seemed obvious now that Benihiko's story and her demonstrated capabilities were at odds, but only Hinata had noticed.

"I deceived them," said Benihiko. "I didn't want to participate in their crimes, so I convinced them I wasn't capable. But if I had fought with them, I believe I would have been among our strongest members."

"Then," said the Hokage after a moment, "I will allow you to accompany the strike team to confront your clan. At the first sign of treachery they will kill you. Do you understand?"

Benihiko nodded.

"Ideally, I would like to send ten or so _jounin_ out to deal with this threat," said Lady Tsunade. "But we cannot wait any longer, and most of the _jounin_ are away. Therefore the strike team will consist of Neji, Tenten, Lee, Sakura, and Hinata. Neji, you are the captain; you are to kill Benihiko if she betrays you."

Neji nodded. He did not look at Benihiko.

"Then let's begin preparations!" said the Hokage, rising quickly and pointing directly at Neji. "We'll debrief Benihiko and outfit you six for battle. You will leave in one hour!" When everyone continued to stand without moving, Tsunade brought her fist down on the desk. The polished top cracked where she struck it. "Now!" she shouted. "Get moving!"

They got moving.


	3. Blood Spattered Leaves

_Blood-Spattered Leaves_

The fully risen moon hung heavily above them, and outside the neon aura of Konoha's electric lights it was joined by countless unblinking stars. They moved swiftly and silently through the trees toward the site the ANBU had identified, Benihiko at Neji's side so he could kill her if necessary.

He'd thought he might have to carry the young woman, but it transpired that she could move as fast and silent as any ninja of the Leaf. Her brown shift was now cinched at the waist by a belt hung with standard-issue ninja gear – _shuriken_, _kunai_, and rope.

"I don't need all these," she'd said before they left, regarding the weapons skeptically. "Except one to draw blood. I sculpt my own projectiles." But the Hokage had insisted, and Benihiko was in no position to refuse.

His Byakugan engaged, Neji could see the radiant shapes of his team moving through the woods alongside him. They were so few, and if half of what Benihiko had told them was true, they would not be enough.

_Benihiko took one of her new kunai in her right hand, and without flinching used its point to draw a crimson line across her left palm. She made hand signs rapidly, then thrust out her left palm and said, "Sculpting art: Form of shuriken!" Immediately a whirring red projectile issued from her hand to slice through an oaken cabinet across the room. It passed briefly out of sight and reemerged on the other side, leaving two neat holes behind. Benihiko swung her bloodied outstretched palm to the right, and in the same moment the shuriken pivoted in midair to fly directly at Lee. It had lost no momentum; Lee had no time to dodge. At the last second Benihiko pushed her palm forward fractionally, and the shuriken responded by swerving to avoid Lee and strike the wall directly behind his head. It left a meter-wide crater in the cement, colored brightly in the middle by a splash of blood. _

_"That was the second-lowest density of blood the Chyoubi use," she said, wiping her palm with a white cloth. She held up her hand to show them her skin, miraculously whole and unbroken. "Sculptures of that density are red, and they can pass through flesh and wood. Sculptures at the next density are purple, and if I'd used one of them, it would have gone through the wall. The highest density is black in color, and if one of those even scrapes you, you die. But black sculptures require massive amounts of chakra and blood, so we don't often use them. Most Chyoubi fighters can only use the red."_

_"Only one sculpture at a time?" asked Neji, his eyes on the crater. _

_"No," said Benihiko. "All fighters can control at least ten. My mother can control a hundred."_

Still Neji couldn't see any sign of the Chyoubi clan ahead. The ANBU had said they were camped about a day's walk south of the village, in a sheltered ravine. Their numbers were estimated at around thirty.

_"Most of them won't give you any problem," said Benihiko. "There are six children who can't even make a single sculpture yet, and ten adults who are too old or too weak to fight. That leaves about fifteen adult warriors, depending on how many are away on scouting missions."_

_"Of those who remain, the ones you need to be most careful of are the kunoichi. The blood sculpting kekkei genkai runs strongest in women, and since we don't practice any other technique, the men you meet should be relatively easy targets."_

_ "'Relatively,'" echoed Sakura. "Even if they can only do what you just showed us, how are we supposed to defeat them?" _

_Benihiko looked thoughtfully at her left arm. "After I begin the sculpting jutsu," she said, "it takes time for the blood I release to assume its form. For the first three meters or so of its flight, the sculpture has no form at all – it's just blood."_

_"So if we can get inside a radius of three meters, you're defenseless?"_

_"Not exactly."_

Finally, through the dense trees ahead, Neji saw the land pucker into a small ravine. A few more leaps brought him within sight of a sizable cluster of people gathered around a fire, laughing and talking animatedly. He signaled his team to halt and they obeyed, dropping to the earth to gather around him in a tight circle. He wondered how many of them he would see alive again.

_"Once you're inside that radius, your odds are better. Chyoubi do not practice hand-to-hand combat. Up close, they rely on edged weapons."_

_"Edged weapons? What kind?" Tenten looked at Benihiko with intensity; this was her area of expertise._

_"It's different for each member. Every Chyoubi child, regardless of strength, is assigned a unique weapon and made to train with it every day. This is meant to compensate for our close-range weakness. It is the only time we use weapons not of our own creation."_

_"What was your weapon?"_

_Benihiko blinked. "The naginata," she replied, meaning the long blade-tipped staff favored by monks and samurai wives. "It was considered a mark of low status. Swords are preferred."_

"_If you trained with it every day," said Tenten, "you must be good by now." _

_Benihiko shrugged. Tenten reached into her pack, coming up with a shabby-looking scroll Neji had never seen before. She tossed it to Benihiko._

"_My naginata," she explained. "I never use it – I prefer a staff at close quarters. You're welcome to it."_

_Benihiko gazed silently at the yellowed scroll, a certain ambivalence in her expression. Finally she pocketed it. "Thank you," she said to Tenten._

"I count at least five guards in our way," whispered Neji. "We'll split up here. Kill or disable as many as you can, but remember to signal for help if you encounter the clan leader or her lieutenant." Curt nods all around, and they dispersed in the prearranged pairings – Tenten and Lee bearing right, Sakura and Hinata left, Neji and Benihiko keeping to a straight course aimed directly at the heart of the encampment.

"_After you move in close, you'll need to disable them quickly, before they can call their sculptures back. Most will have difficultly sculpting and fencing at the same time, but you must still look out behind you for incoming projectiles."_

"_But there are two Chyoubi who are at least as dangerous at close range as they are at mid-range: my mother the clan leader and her lieutenant Akabito. These two can use the second level of the Chyoubi jutsu."_

"_A second level?"_

_Benihiko nodded. "My mother carries a nodachi and Akabito uses a pair of short swords. After drawing them they wet them with blood and sculpt a thin purple layer over the entire blade. The weapons then become like our sculptures – so sharp and dense with chakra that they can't be blocked, only dodged. Using the second level of the sculpting jutsu, Mother and Akabito are able to control the flight of their projectiles by willpower alone, leaving their hands free to fence. This is very difficult and deadly – opponents must contend with multiple flying projectiles as well as a vicious enemy wielding a lethal blade."_

"_How do we deal with them?" asked Neji._

"_You don't," said Benihiko. "I do."_

Which was why Benihiko and Neji were now headed for the blazing fire at the bottom of the ravine, where the leader of the Chyoubi clan held court among her brutal progeny.

***

Southwest of Neji and Benihiko, Hinata had located the first of the Chyoubi guards. She was a tall woman from whose belt hung a wicked-looking _kusarigama_, a sickle attached to a heavy weighted chain. She was leaning casually against a tree gazing up at the moon. Hinata tapped Sakura's shoulder to get her attention, then pointed into the forest and held up both hands for 10 meters. Sakura nodded and indicated through gestures that Hinata should approach the target from the left while she moved in from the right. Ideally one of them would take the guard by surprise.

Hinata nodded her understanding and moved off into the darkness, fear clenching in her gut. She could not forget what Benihko had showed them, nor help wondering if her skills were adequate to this fight. But their weakness was close-range combat, which was her strength. If she could just get in close enough to strike with her Gentle Fist . . .

Only a tangled thicket of underbrush now separated Hinata from the tree against whose other side the enemy was leaning, and via her Byakugan Hinata could see Sakura directly opposite her, moving stealthily closer. Sakura was about to come face-to-face with the enemy, so Hinata decided to wait until their target was distracted by her teammate and strike from behind. If successful, Hinata could disable the woman before she sculpted even a single bloody projectile.

Sakura spotted the target and evidently had the same idea; Hinata saw her stand up straight and bring her foot down hard on a fallen branch, which broke with an echoing _crack!_ The guard tensed immediately, peering into the darkness ahead.

"Who's there?" the woman called in a husky voice. "Show yourself!"

"Here!" cried Sakura, hurtling into the guard and landing a punch squarely on her torso. The guard flew some meters back into the woods, crashing through thorny bushes before colliding with a tree. That blow must have broken ribs, but she clambered immediately to her feet, reached down, and ran her right hand along the blade of the _kusarigama_.

It was time. Hinata tensed for a leap, then gasped in pain as something red and luminous slammed into her right shoulder. It passed cleanly through her, and Hinata heard the sound of something viscous splashing against leaves.

"That's not very sporting," said a lazy voice from the darkness. Hinata, through a haze of pain, could clearly see her attacker now. It was a young man with a shaven head who could not have been older than sixteen. "Beniharu and your friend look like they're having fun. If you want to play too, you'll have to play with me." He leered cruelly at her and raised a dripping _kunai_ to cut himself again.

He must have approached her from behind while she had been absorbed in watching Sakura. There was just no excuse, though, for a Byakugan user to be caught by surprise. "I'm sorry Sakura," whispered Hinata as she got shakily to her feet. She hoped her teammate would realize she wasn't coming.

Her jacket was soaked through with blood. Already she felt faint, and if she lost consciousness it was all over. It was also over if she took another hit like that.

"Sculpting art," said the young man. "Form of _kunai_!" Five crimson weapons issued from him, flying at her in a strange braided pattern, weaving their paths together in a disorienting dance that he controlled with complicated movements of his hands. They reached her position and circled her, now flying overhead, now changing direction, their courses impossible to predict.

"Close!" cried her opponent, clenching his hand into a fist. The sculpted _kunai_ shot toward her from five different directions, all aimed at her heart.

Her Byakugan and her training saved her. The former enabled her to clearly see each one of the five _kunai_ as it zeroed in on her, and the latter gave her the speed and agility to dodge them all. She felt one graze her leg as she moved, but it was a shallow cut.

"Very good," said the young man as she landed awkwardly and clutched at her gushing shoulder. "But you can't dodge ten! Sculpting art: Form of _shuriken_!"

This time she leaped before the weapons could encircle her, because she agreed with his assessment – she could not dodge ten. He sent the sculptures hurtling after her, and she weaved among the trees in a desperate attempt to evade them. He simply directed them through the obstructing tree trunks, felling several trees as the _shuriken_ flew in a wedge formation straight at her. But he was clearly not as gifted a sculptor as Benihiko; his sculptures experienced a noticeable loss of speed as they passed through each tree.

Hinata dropped to the ground and rolled, hearing the flying _shuriken_ whiz overhead. There was no time to lose; she regained her feet and charged her attacker, seeing the _shuriken _halt in midair and reverse direction behind her. She was not going to make it – the _shuriken_ would reach her before she reached him.

But he had sent his sculptures through tree trunks rather than around them – he had wasted time and energy felling trees – his actions made no sense, _unless_ . . . Hinata leaned down and scooped up some rich forest loam in her left hand, then flung it desperately at her enemy and dropped with a crash to the ground, expecting any second to feel her body ripped by whirring _shuriken_.

She felt nothing, though, and instead heard again the sound of blood splashing onto leaves.

Ignoring the pain in her shoulder and the lightness in her head, both of which were reaching dangerous proportions, she scrambled upright and resumed her charge toward an enemy who was now cursing and frantically wiping dirt from his eyes, his sculpting jutsu dispelled by his momentary loss of eye contact.

He regained his vision in the instant she reached him. His hand twitched toward the machete hung on his belt, but arrested its movement when she struck him squarely on the sternum and sent all of her remaining chakra down her arm and into his heart. He dropped to the forest floor, dead.

Hinata knew a moment's satisfaction that she had guessed right, had correctly divined the true extent to which this boy's sculpting art differed from Benihiko's, before she too fell to the ground.

***

Sakura knew that Hinata had run into trouble long before she heard the sound of falling trees and the curses of the doomed Chyoubi youth. She knew it as soon as Hinata failed to join in the fight against the _kusarigama_-wielding guard, for in spite of her timidity Hinata was fierce in defense of her friends. She would never willingly leave Sakura to fight alone.

But Sakura didn't have much time to worry over Hinata's fate. She was too busy trying stay alive herself, against a horrifically skilled opponent.

"Sculpting art: Form of _shuriken_! Form of _kunai_!" the woman shouted, sending a veritable flock of red weaponry in her direction. They moved almost too fast to see, controlled by frantic arm movements that under other circumstances might have been funny.

Concentrating chakra in her bicep and surrounding muscles, Sakura hefted another man-sized boulder with her left arm, then smashed it to bits with her right fist. She directed her blow upwards so that the debris from the demolished stone spread out in a cloud that more or less intercepted the approaching formation of projectiles. Wherever stone met sculpture, there issued a brief unpleasant whine as from a drill, followed immediately by a small rain of bizarrely hollowed-out blood-spattered rocks.

That still left a few projectiles that had escaped Sakura's ad hoc flak, this time around ten. She didn't have time to smash another rock, so instead she began dodging frantically right and left, using the lightning speed she had learned from Lady Tsunade. Had she waited longer this would not have worked, but the sculptures still had to close a distance of some meters before surrounding her and thus had to change direction each time Sakura moved.

In frustration her enemy tried separating the surviving sculptures and having them close from multiple directions, but this was ineffective against Sakura's ceaseless movement. "You can't keep this up forever, girl!" the woman shouted.

She was right, of course. Her enemy did not need to maintain continuous eye contact with her sculptures as Hinata's did, but in the opening moments of the battle Sakura had determined that after thirty seconds the sculpting jutsu faded, forcing the woman to start again. Thirty seconds, however, was a long time in a ninja battle, especially since she could not stand still for even one second if she hoped to survive. She was having to dodge upwards of ten times with each new volley, and already she could feel her chakra reserves dwindling.

"Form of rope!" her enemy cried, and Sakura spun to see the ten projectiles halt and fuse into a sloshing red orb which then stretched out into an impossibly thin crimson thread. The two ends swung around to meet in a circle whose diameter was at least ten meters, and whose center was Sakura.

"Close!" shouted her enemy triumphantly, clenching her hand into a fist, and Sakura saw the circle thicken as it began to contract. With a _thrum_ the sculpted rope passed cleanly through the trees in its path, advancing rapidly toward her, intent on slicing her in two. Moving laterally was clearly not an option, which left the vertical direction, though nothing prevented the sculptor from raising or lowering the rope to follow Sakura's movements. It was, however, the only option, and Sakura had to try it now or die where she stood. She crouched and focused the chakra in her legs, then leaped high into the air, rising above the surrounding treetops into the night sky.

For a moment she thought it had worked, and then the red circle appeared around her waist like some grotesque imitation of a hula-hoop.

She thought of Naruto and Sasuke, of the vow she would never fulfill, and braced herself for the pain of death.

It never came. What did come was a jarring impact as she landed back on the ground, and the slimy feel of something thick and warm trickling down her legs. She looked down to see her legs and feet soaked with blood; a quick inspection confirmed it was not hers. Rather it was the remains of the sculpted rope, whose time had run out just as it had drawn in to sever Sakura's torso from her legs.

Foul cursing came from the direction of the enemy. The woman sliced her hand open to try yet again.

The curses broke through Sakura's astonishment at finding herself alive. She immediately realized that she could not withstand another volley. Careful strategy was getting her nowhere; it was time to do something reckless.

Sakura shot toward her opponent just as the woman sent off another volley of weapons. Sakura and the outgoing sculptures passed one another, and then Sakura was inside the three-meter radius.

As expected the enemy immediately raised her _kusarigama_, swinging its chain in an arc to ensnare one of Sakura's legs. She caught the left one and yanked, tipping Sakura onto the ground. She swung back the sickle end, now perfectly positioned for burial in Sakura's belly, in the same instant as Sakura sat up and grasped the chain in both hands, grunting with effort as she broke it cleanly in half.

The Chyoubi woman lost her balance and stumbled, the sickle still clutched in her hands. Sakura focused her chakra in the bottom of her foot and kicked upward, catching her opponent under the chin. The woman's head snapped back and there was a resonant _crack!_ as her neck broke. She fell against a tree and slumped down, eyes blank and body still.

Sakura panted on the ground for a moment, then suddenly remembered the outgoing cloud of sculptures and twisted her head around in panic. But all that remained of them was a puddle of blood a few meters away where they had fallen after losing their form, either because the sculptor had died or because she had forgotten about them in the throes of close combat.

Sakura unwound the severed _kusarigama_ chain from around her leg, noticing as she did so that her hands were trembling slightly. She sat on the ground a moment, trying to get control over the fear that was only now flooding through her. By rights she should be dead, but she had been saved again and again by nothing more than luck. It was lucky that they were in mountainous terrain strewn with granite boulders, lucky that her opponent had not been able to sculpt purple _kunai_ to pierce through rock, lucky that the jutsu had run out just in time save her from the rope, lucky that that last batch of sculptures hadn't ever found its way back to its creator. Sakura took deep, steadying breaths, telling herself that she could not expect to be so fortunate again, that next time she must rely on skill and not happenstance for survival. That, after all, was the point of all her training.

At last she stood up, glancing around at the battle-scarred clearing she and the Chyoubi woman had gouged into the forest. It was illuminated by ghostly moonlight and crisscrossed by felled pines. Limpid pools of blood reflected the star-strewn heavens. Sakura avoided these as she left to search for Hinata, to learn whether Hinata had also been lucky.

***

To the southeast, Lee and Tenten found a pair of Chyoubi guards crouched by a tiny brook, their voices clearly audible over the sound of running water.

"—why we have to stay out here all night," one of them, a man in green and brown camouflage, was saying. "No one would be crazy enough to attack the camp with Beniasa and Akabito there."

"Maybe, but it's better not to disagree with her," replied his companion, a kunoichi in a green shift similar to Benihiko's brown one.

"Hmmm . . ." said the man, wincing slightly. "Can't argue with that . . ." He fell silent, apparently contemplating the unpleasant consequences of disobedience.

"Tenten," whispered Lee, shifting slightly against the rocky outcrop from which they observed this scene, "how should we do this? Should I go in first?"

Tenten peered over at him, squinting to see in the dark. He looked keyed up as usual, which in situations like this could be a problem. "_No_," she hissed emphatically. "We do this together. I'm your teammate, remember?"

Even in this light she could make out his bushy eyebrows as they shot up his forehead. "Of course! I did not mean to suggest otherwise, Tenten."

Tenten chewed her lip in thought. Unlike Lee she was not eager to engage the enemy directly, for of all the members of tonight's strike force she was the only strict mid-range type. Even Benihiko, on hearing a short description of her jutsu, had seemed concerned.

"It sounds a lot like what the Chyoubi do," she'd said. "But they can control the flight of their projectiles _after_ throwing them, so they'll just intercept every _kunai_ you throw with one of their own. You'll never get through."

Tenten's normally unshakeable confidence had wavered then, a bit. But then Neji, his back to them as he assembled his gear, had said without turning around, "Tenten can handle herself, Benihiko. She'll find a way." Tenten's spirits had soared at this unexpected praise, enough to allow her to ignore the doubt still etched on Benihiko's face.

Now, though, Tenten was beginning to appreciate the severity of her disadvantage. As she mentally ran through all her favorite techniques, there was not a single one that did not rely upon her hitting the target with one of her many weapons. She could throw from here, of course, and hope to catch them by surprise, but if their reflexes were sufficiently sharp – and there was every reason to suppose they were – they would simply dodge out of the way, then trace the weapons' flight back to this ledge. Then she would be in real trouble. If only she could be sure of getting a hit the first time she threw . . .

It came to her in a brilliant stroke of inspiration: She _was_ carrying tools that could score a guaranteed hit. Reaching into her pack, she whispered to Lee, "Lee, I have an idea. We might be able to take them out from here."

Incredibly, Lee looked disappointed. "What do you mean?" he asked.

In response she held up the objects she had extracted from her pack: a _kunai_ and a paper bomb. Understanding dawned on his face. "Why just one?" he whispered. "Wouldn't more be better?"

"No, they'd hear a bunch of _kunai_ hitting the ground near them, and know to run. But one might be mistaken for the sound of an animal or a falling tree branch."

Unable to argue with this logic, Lee looked down at the two guards. "Do it now," he urged, "while they're still close together."

Tenten didn't need to be told twice. She knotted the paper bomb's attached twine onto the loop at the end of the _kunai_, then took the little knife into her right hand and raised herself up slightly to gauge the distance. Fifteen meters – she could do that in her sleep.

In one swift sure motion her right arm arced forward and released the _kunai._ With a muffled _thwack _it landed exactly where she had intended – about half a meter behind the camouflaged man.

"What was that?" he asked with a frown, standing and peering over his companion's head into the woods. In the next second he was thrown forward on top of her as Tenten completed the hand signs to detonate the bomb.

The whole area was instantly lit by an actinic flash that left rainbow-edged black afterimages in Tenten's vision. When these finally cleared she found herself staring straight into the eyes of the green-robed kunoichi, who stood astride the prone body of her partner.

"You!" the woman screamed, pointing to Tenten's hands still clenched in the final sign of the detonation sequence, "You did that!" She advanced toward their position, finally stopping to grope at her belt for a small knife. She jabbed the knife vindictively into her own hand, then cried "Sculpting art: Form of _shuriken_!"

Tenten didn't think. Her hands moved on their own to extract two handfuls of _kunai _from her pack and then hurl them at her opponent with deadly accuracy.

"You'll have to do better than that!" the woman screamed, waving her hands wildly in what Tenten thought was a fit of pique until she saw one of the sculpted _shuriken_ change course to weave through the air with impossible speed and intercept each one of the _kunai_ she'd thrown. Not a single one had even made it halfway to the target.

The sculptures were still incoming; Lee threw himself to the ground to avoid a flight of them and shouted to Tenten to do the same. She did so, ducking behind the outcrop and hoping this woman could only sculpt in red.

The ledge was large enough to shield hers and Lee's bodies, but her pack of weaponry and the gigantic scroll containing her most powerful jutsu both stuck out above the sheltering rock.

"Form of grapple!" her enemy called, which puzzled Tenten until she heard a soft _whumpf_ and felt a searing pain between her shoulder blades. Twisting her head she saw a glowing red pair of grapples attached to her pack and scroll, their prongs sunk in deep enough to graze the flesh beneath

Next Tenten felt an inexorable pulling as her enemy used the sculpting jutsu to shorten the grapples' ropes and reel her in. Frantically she clawed at the ground and then at the ledge, fighting to hang on, knowing that if she was pulled into the open she was dead. But she did not have the strength to break the sculpted ropes, and though she heard seams popping in her bag, both it and the scroll were constructed of sturdy material and attached to her by multiple buckled leather straps. There was no chance, no time.

"Tenten!" cried Lee, recklessly standing up to take hold of her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, braced his feet against the rock, and pulled with all of his considerable strength. For a moment Tenten thought her body would give before her equipment did, as one shoulder dislocated and her spine arched unnaturally, and then there came the sound of snapping leather and she was free.

They collapsed together back onto the ledge, where Tenten lay curled in the fetal position, every part of her throbbing in pain. "Tenten," said Lee urgently. "Are you all right? Were you hurt?"

She was still trying to catch her breath to tell him that was a stupid question, that he should try playing tug-of-war as the rope sometime, when their enemy's mocking voice rang out.

"It seems my fishing expedition was a failure! I only hooked some useless trash"—the sound of many metal objects clashing against each other as she kicked at her acquisitions—"that passes for weaponry around here! Let me show you fools what _real_ weapons look like!"

It was going to be purple this time. Tenten could feel it. Lee could too, judging from the alarm on his face. Purple _kunai_ would lance through the rock and rip through their bodies, killing them instantly.

Unless she stopped them from being sculpted in the first place.

Shaking, dislocated shoulder burning with agony, Tenten brought her hands together and painstakingly formed the detonation sequence again.

The explosive tags still contained in her pack, now lying beside her scroll at the enemy's feet, went off; earth and stone geysered into the air and fell down together with the sharp-edged contents of Tenten's kit in a lethal iron rain.

When it was safe to do so Lee helped Tenten over to the blast site, where a stomach-churning red slurry was all that remained of the sculptor.

"That was incredible," said Lee in a hushed voice. "You saved our lives!"

"After you saved mine," panted Tenten. "And it cost me all my weapons. I'm useless now."

Lee's heavy brows knit. "Not necessarily," he replied. "The scrolls may be lost, but many of your _kunai _are scattered around the area. You stay here and rest – I will gather up as many as I can."

Tenten nodded her acquiescence and settled onto the trunk of an uprooted tree, watching Lee work his way back toward the brook in search of fallen _kunai_.

She reached up to probe her injured shoulder gingerly, wondering if it was a good idea to try to relocate it herself. No, it was probably better to leave that to Sakura, who was the expert after all . . .

"Bastard!" An animal cry from the direction of the brook startled her. She looked to see Lee, frozen in an instinctive fighting posture, facing off against the man in camouflage.

_But he's dead,_ she thought desperately, remembering the sight of his limp form at his comrade's feet. He'd taken the brunt of the first blast, shielding his companion at the cost of his own life.

But they'd never actually confirmed he was dead, just assumed it because no normal person could withstand a blast like that at close range.

But he _wasn't_ a normal person. He was a Chyoubi, whose heritage included an ability to resist pain and heal quickly. Could he have survived and recovered already?

The answer to this question was 'no'; Tenten could see blackened flesh through his tattered shirt and a dark stain across his midriff, emanating from the shining point of a _kunai_ – carrier of the original paper bomb, propelled by the explosion into his back and out through his stomach. The pain must have been incredible.

"You killed her!" the man said painfully. "And you've killed me!" He pressed his hand against _kunai_ emerging from his torso. It came away drenched in maroon blood.

"But I'll take you with me!" the man declared. Then he smiled insanely. "Did you know, fool, that blood from the body's core is denser with chakra than blood from the extremities? _Sculpting art: Form of shuriken!_"

Too late Tenten realized the danger; too late she called out to Lee to run. Lee was quicker: he assessed his predicament in the blink of an eye and lunged at his opponent. The _shuriken_ formed in the air and spread into a fat rectangle; they were a deep evil purple.

Lee met the advancing wall of _shuriken_ and passed through it – and it through him – without slowing. He reached the camouflaged man and hit him hard, and they went down together, splashing into the brook.


	4. Malice Without Bound

_Malice Without Bound_

The encampment was in an uproar. Wide-eyed children watched from under lifted tent flaps as adult Chyoubi scrambled to collect weapons and provisions, whipped onward by the authoritative voice of Akabito.

Akabito stood near the fire calling out orders, his legs spread to the same width as his broad shoulders, his bare muscular arms folded. On his right bicep was tattooed the image of two crossed short swords, and on his belt hung the real thing. "Benihide and Akayori to the north!" he called. "Benizora and Akamatsu to the east, Benitsuki and Akaoka to the west!" Crisp acknowledgements came back to him from the darkness, followed by the rustle of leaves as six ninja took off into the underbrush. "Akanori," he called, pointing to an old man who jumped at the sound of his own name, "take the children and elders into the forest and hide. Whoever took out the guards is sure to come here next."

The old man nodded fearfully and began gathering the noncombatants. Some of them were bent nearly double with age, others still too young to walk. They made a pitiful spectacle as they shuffled off into the darkness, accompanied by the cries of sleepy children and the frightened murmurs of the elderly. Akabito watched them go and then turned to the woman beside him.

"That should do it," he said.

She lounged carelessly in a wicker chair, seemingly uninterested in the activity swirling around her. She wore a voluminous black robe, and long hair of the same color was pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her face bore the unmistakable lines of middle age, but her green eyes flickered with a malevolent energy and the body beneath her robe was lithe and strong. The aura of power surrounding her was palpable; it took only one glance to ascertain that this was Beniasa Chyoubi, matriarch of the Chyoubi clan.

"Fine," she answered without looking up. She was absorbed in her right arm, examining it minutely by the light of the fire. Earlier she had rolled up her sleeve to the shoulder to expose dozens of tiny red tattoos, each one in the shape of a different edged weapon. Five of these had gone gray, among them a _kusarigama_, a machete, and a _naginata._ "Let's hope this batch fares better than the last one. I've already lost five, Akabito, and losing more will seriously affect our combat ability." Akabito nodded in agreement, and then Neji deactivated his Byakugan and turned to Benihiko.

"Well?' she demanded, crouched beside him in a thicket just out of sight of the camp.

"They have detected us," said Neji. "Akabito has sent teams to back up each of the guards."

Benihiko merely nodded, apparently unsurprised.

"But you knew that would happen, didn't you?"

She shrugged. "I suspected it might. But if it has that's good news – it means your teammates have been successful."

"Yes, Beniasa said she had already lost five. She was looking at a tattoo on her right arm."

Benihiko shifted a bit and avoided his gaze. "Was she?"

"Benihiko," said Neji dangerously, "I consider withholding important information a form of betrayal."

He was still stung by the events of the last hour, when they had come upon a kunoichi keeping watch due north of the camp. Without warning Benihiko had stood and called to the woman to surrender, receiving an immediate answer in the form of a spray of red _kunai_. The ensuing battle had taken only seconds, as Benihiko's purple _shuriken_ quickly overwhelmed her opponent's sculptures and threw the woman back against a tree, unconscious and with a bleeding hole through her shoulder. "She'll be all right," Benihiko had said. "I didn't aim for any vital areas." Neji wasn't sure what bothered him the most – the fact that Benihiko was clearly far stronger than she'd let on, her presumption in offering the woman terms, or her apparent unwillingness to do serious harm to her own family. In any case he did not intend to be surprised again.

Benihiko sighed and said, "It's not as if I'm leading you into a trap. I just didn't think it was relevant."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Fine," she replied, her voice now tinged with anger. "Those tattoos connect my mother to every living member of the clan. They are given to us at birth. When one of them goes gray, it means the wielder of that weapon is dead."

"The _naginata_ was gray."

"I didn't choose the right arm at random."

Neji absorbed this in silence. So she had left more than an arm behind in that clearing. A mark of bondage that could never be wiped away, had to be removed by more drastic means.

"I understand," he said at last, and something in his voice made her turn her head sharply to look at him. But the moonlight cast leafy shadows across his face and she could not see his eyes. "Benihiko, when we go in it will be with the intent to kill. Is that going to be a problem for you?"

Benihiko looked away from him, off to the south toward the camp she still couldn't see. She removed her gloves and tossed them away into the darkness, and released the genjutsu concealing her right arm. "Not this time," she said.

Neji reactivated his Byakugan. "Then let's go."

They commenced creeping closer to the camp, where Akabito and Beniasa were now the only Chyoubi left. Neji concentrated on Akabito, whose veins overflowed with chakra so intense it outshone the flames of the fire beside him. By agreement this man was his target—he had ordered Benihiko to save her chakra and her blood for the fight against her mother.

Neji had been hoping to draw in close enough to launch a surprise attack, but as soon as they entered the flickering light of the fire Beniasa called from her wicker throne, "Whoever you are, you'd better come out now – I know you're here!"

On hearing this Akabito spun in place, scanning the surrounding woods. His eyes landed on them just as Neji sprang from concealment, and Neji had to twist awkwardly out of the way to avoid a volley of purple _shuriken_. He hadn't even heard the other man call out the form of his sculpture – this then was the second level of which Benihiko had spoken.

"There's another," said Beniasa, still seated. "Show yourself!"

Benihiko stood up slowly and came fully into the light of the fire. "Hello, mother," she said, her eyes fixed on the black-robed kunoichi in the chair.

Akabito started and swore. "What is this?" he demanded. "You're dead – I found your arm myself."

"That's because I left it for you to find. I knew I could count on you to reach the wrong conclusion."

Over Akabito's answering snarl Beniasa, having sat up straight to regard her daughter with interest, said, "But I see you have sculpted a replacement, Benihiko. I am proud – I never knew you had such skill."

Benihiko lifted her chin defiantly. "I didn't want you to know."

Beniasa nodded slowly, raising her gaze from her daughter's right arm to her face. "I see. Then you are in fact as weak as I remember – just not in the precise _way_ I remember. You should not have come back."

Neji chose this instant to lunge at Akabito, whose attention had completely shifted from him to the exchange between the two kunoichi. But Akabito was almost inhumanly fast, sending no fewer than fifty purple _kunai_ to surround Neji before he could come within striking distance. They circled Neji like so many violet insects, leaving no avenue of escape.

Neji felt no panic. He had encountered situations very like this before, and they had all been dealt with in the same way – the _kaiten._ He emitted chakra from his hands, his back, his chest, and began spinning his body like a top to create a whirling impenetrable wall of energy.

"No!" screamed Benihiko, as Akabito laughed and closed his fist, "No! Neji, it's no good – they're too heavy! _They're too heavy!_"

The purple _kunai_, dense with blood and chakra, were in fact far more massive than normal weapons, and they flew through the _kaiten_ like birds through a light wind. Neji emitted more chakra from more places, trying desperately to perturb their flight, and succeeded in turning their points aside fractionally. Now the _kunai_ were like birds in a cyclone, buffeted but still airborne. They honed in from all sides, slashing at his robes and skin, inflicting fifty painful but non-lethal flesh wounds.

"Oh," said Beniasa, when the jutsu was released and the sculptures sloshed formlessly onto the ground, "you missed, Akabito."

That was not entirely true, Neji thought wryly, as his own blood dripped down to join Akabito's and he fought to catch his breath. The cuts he had been dealt burned terribly, and worse yet he had been forced to expend over half his chakra to produce that single _kaiten_. He would not be capable of another, which meant he could not permit himself to be surrounded again.

"Neji, I'll take him! Just _run_!" screamed Benihiko, removing a_ kunai _in preparation for cutting herself.

"I . . . don't think so," Neji panted. "We . . . already . . . discussed this. You stay back." It wasn't chivalry. Akabito was _his_ target. Neji focused hard on Akabito's peculiar chakra network, searching for weaknesses.

Akabito laughed again, but there was an edge to his voice now. He said, "I didn't miss, Beniasa. He deflected them somehow—barely. But look at him. He's all cut up. If purple sculptures can wound him, I'll bet black can kill him."

So saying, he unhooked one of the short swords from his belt and used it to slash himself, not across the palm, but across the wrist, opening a vein. Bright blood gushed for a moment, running down into his cupped hand, before the wound closed up like a pair of pursed lips. Akabito then flung his handful of blood outward, where it transformed into three black _kunai_. They hovered in midair, humming ominously, seeming to warp the space around them. Then Akabito set them into motion.

Neji was ready. Through his Byakugan those _kunai_ resembled oblong suns, and he knew he must not be hit by one. But Akabito had only made three, and Neji's reflexes were quite as good as one would expect from a _jounin_ of the Leaf. He avoided them nimbly, feeling a kind of malevolent heat graze his skin each time one whizzed by.

Experimentally he tried deflecting one with a regular _kunai_, wondering if metal might not be enough to at least slow it down, and was rewarded with a burn to his fingertips when his weapon melted into liquid at the first touch of the sculpture.

So Neji just kept dodging, eliciting curses of frustration from his opponent. All the while he drew gradually closer to Akabito, determined to be within the radius of safety when he finally released the jutsu. That happened after about a minute, when Akabito let out a great shuddering gasp punctuated by an exclamation of "Shit!" The big man's chakra reserves were noticeably lower—Neji was gratified to see he wasn't the only one being exhausted by this battle.

And now he was a mere two meters from his target, at a suitable distance for close combat.

Akabito had evidently reached the same conclusion, for he had drawn the second of his short swords and crossed them swiftly over his chest, making shallow cuts to wet the blades with blood. "Sculpting art," he said, "Blood of my mothers, be my sword!"

There was a bright neon flash and then the sword blades were transformed, now coated with a luminous layer of purple. Simultaneously Akabito flicked some of the blood still running down his chest into the air and fashioned ten purple _shuriken_, which took their form three meters away and halted, waiting.

"How embarrassing for you, Akabito," came Beniasa's voice from her chair. "To be pushed this far by Konoha trash."

Akabito howled in rage and charged Neji, as his sculptures also commenced to move.

It took every ounce of Neji's skill to avoid being hit by the swooping _shuriken_ as he dodged Akabito's blades, seeking an opening for his Gentle Fist attack. One hit, just _one hit_ would be enough . . .

But Akabito's reach with his swords was longer than Neji's, and Akabito wielded them like a part of his body, like he'd been born with them attached to his hands and just wore them on his belt for convenience. Neji was slashed once, then again, feeling the blades bite deeply into his side and his thigh and leave a burning sensation far beyond that of any normal wound. Through his Byakugan Neji could see the dense blood and chakra shell overlying the blades, flowing gently up from their handles and then back again. It was beautiful.

Suddenly Neji seized the blades of both swords, their deadly edges arrested by the intense chakra he was emitting from each hand. It took nearly all his remaining chakra, focused in the narrow area where his hands met the blades, to avoid being maimed. Akabito was so surprised he failed to react for an instant, and in this instant Neji wrenched the swords around to meet the incoming _shuriken._ Where sword met sculpture there was a bright flash and a high-pitched scream, and then the _shuriken_ disappeared. He missed one and felt it pass through his calf, and stumbled briefly with the pain.

If Akabito had just dropped his swords he would have been saved, for Neji was now nearly out of chakra and in no condition to continue fighting. But he did not, for his attachment to the weapons was such that he would no more abandon them than his own limbs. It had occurred to Neji, as he watched Akabito fight, that in every way that mattered to a Byakugan user Akabito's swords _were_ a part of him, for they ran with the same chakra that flowed in the sculptor's veins, all the way from their deadly points to the sculptor's hands. Hence his unorthodox move.

Another shinobi could not have done what Neji did next. Only a Hyuuga, only a genius, could have managed it. With the tiny part of his chakra not engaged in holding the swords, Neji sent a small burst through his palms and into the shell around each blade. It was precisely attenuated to match with Akabito's own chakra, and it entered the flowing stream like a ripple on the surface of a pond, to be carried up the blades and then back down again. On reaching the sword handles it entered Akabito's body, joining with the chakra coursing through Akabito's veins up through his arms to his heart.

Which stopped.

Akabito dropped to the ground, his swords losing their purple coating as they clattered down beside him. Neji drew a _kunai_ to finish his opponent, who now lay clutching at his chest.

Then a hail of red _shuriken _streaked in front of him, shielding him from Akabito.

"No," said Beniasa, standing in front of her chair with her right hand outstretched, a dripping _kunai_ clutched in her left hand.

She advanced toward him and he knew that if she chose to kill him now he could not prevent it. But she merely looked down at Akabito, thrashing and turning gray at her feet, and asked, "Will he die?"

"Perhaps," said Neji. "I stopped his heart for a while. It may not be able to get started again."

Beniasa nodded. "Too bad," she said. "He was rather talented, for a man." Then she lifted up her right sleeve and drew the bloody point of her _kunai_ across the image of crossed short swords tattooed there.

Akabito erupted in black blades. They bloomed from every vein and artery in his body, erupting at odd angles until he resembled a giant sea urchin. He died instantly, pierced from within by his own deadliest weapons, rendered unrecognizable by the sculptures emerging from his face and everywhere else.

"_Why?"_ came an anguished cry from the fire, where Benihiko stood with a look of horror on her face, transfixed by the sight of her relative dissolving into a pile of tattered flesh floating in a puddle of blood. "He was _loyal_ to you! He risked his _life_ for you! And this is how you repay him?"

"He was weak," said Beniasa coldly. "Like you. But unlike you, he never had the wit to cut off an arm to spare himself from the consequences."

Benihiko's eyes rose from the mess that had been Akabito to her mother's face, and her look of horror changed to one of hatred. "You die," she spat.

Beniasa smiled mockingly. "Try me," she replied.

Deliberately Benihiko moved to stand beside Neji, never taking her eyes from her mother. "Neji," she said tightly, "you've done enough. Now it's my turn."

Neji nodded his understanding and moved painfully toward the shelter of the woods. He was utterly spent, useless. It was up to Benihiko now.

Beniasa had drawn her _nodachi_, a long two-handed sword, from its scabbard slung across her back, and already wet it with blood. Benihiko in turn reached into her robes and retrieved the yellowed scroll given to her by Tenten. She unrolled it, bit her thumb, and touched it to the elaborate mark drawn in the center of the aged parchment. Instantly a _naginata_ appeared in her right hand, its slightly curved blade gleaming brightly in the orange light cast by the fire.

The _naginata_ measured about two meters, with the last third of that length taken up by a highly polished steel blade. The shaft was white oak, yellowed in places by the touch of many hands, tipped by a spiked metal end-cap. Neji felt a surge of pride when he saw that the blade was as sharp as the day it was forged; Tenten took excellent care of her weapons.

Beniasa stood relaxed and waiting as Benihiko ran the blade of the _naginata_ across her forearm, and then both women called, "Sculpting art: Blood of my mothers, be my sword!"

There was a flash of light and the weapons shone purple, deadlier now than anything forged of mere metal and wood. A hail of projectiles also appeared in the air, as numerous as a cloud of locusts, black mixed with purple.

Then it began in earnest. There was none of the customary holding back to assess each other's abilities, nor any taunting, just two kunoichi dueling to kill. Sculptures swirled through the air in great flurries, weaving, changing direction, occasionally diving at one of the combatants. They also moved to intercept one another, screaming down in kamikaze flights to obliterate themselves against incoming projectiles. When black met black there was a low _thrum_ that could be felt in the sternum followed by an explosion of white light that briefly lit the campsite and surrounding woods, and when black met purple there was a high-pitched scream before the purple lost its form and splashed harmlessly to earth. Through it all Beniasa and Benihiko whirled, surrounded and assailed by dozens of sculptures but miraculously untouched by any of them.

Their bloodied blades met again and again, clashing with the same screaming noise issued by the projectiles as they died. Beniasa had tremendous skill – the _nodachi_ was normally considered too heavy for a woman and yet she handled it like a rapier, bringing its blade to bear in the most unexpected places, striking at the smallest undefended targets. For her part Benihiko twirled her _naginata_ like a baton, blocking her mother's attacks, sliding her hands up and down the long wooden shaft as she struck repeatedly at her opponent's face and neck.

As the battle continued the sculptures began to dwindle; neither kunoichi was bothering to replace those that were eliminated. Soon there were only ten or fifteen remaining, and they flew around the campsite like angry insects seeking a chance to sting. Abruptly these too disintegrated, adding to the virtual sea of blood already on the ground, and Neji thought perhaps the jutsu had run out.

A glance at the combatants dispelled this idea, however, as both of their weapons still shone purple, encased in a layer of chakra-laden blood. Rather it seemed that the women had simply let the sculptures go in favor of concentrating on their duel, for now their blades were locked together and neither one seemed prepared to retreat.

There was a look of terrible concentration on their faces, which would have made a lot more sense had they still been sculpting. But then Neji saw their blades' color begin to darken, and understood: They _were_ sculpting, using their art to further compress the layer of blood encasing their swords, turning purple into black. Whoever succeeded first would break the other's blade.

Beniasa grunted with effort, her face shiny with sweat, and Benihiko was biting her lip hard enough to send blood trickling down her chin. The purple of Benihiko's blade gradually darkened, taking on a bluish hue like the sky just before dawn; it seemed that it would turn black in the next heartbeat.

But Beniasa's sword changed just a little quicker, and before Benihiko could achieve that final shade of darkness her mother's _nodachi_ assumed the velvet black of the night sky and sliced cleanly through the _naginata_'s blade.

"Hah!" With a great scream of triumph Baniasa raised the _nodachi_ high over her daughter's head, poised for a final strike. Benihiko dropped her shattered _naginata _and looked upward, oddly calm. As the _nodachi_ began its descent she raised her right arm and murmured something, and then the arm extended into a narrow crimson lance to pierce Beniasa's chest.

Beniasa stumbled backward and began to fall, her sword changing from black to merely silver as she lost control of her jutsu. The _nodachi_ continued to describe a downward arc, which Benihiko avoided by stepping neatly to the side. Finally the great sword hit the ground with a _clang_, coming to a rest beside its wielder.

Beniasa lay dying, gasping for air. Even her durable physique could not survive being stabbed through the heart; she had only minutes.

"Benihiko," she said, and Benihiko came to stand over her, cautiously keeping a little distance between them. "I suppose," she gasped, "that you think you win."

"It looks that way," observed Benihiko. "You're about to die."

Beniasa laughed, a horrible gurgling sound. "You'll take them"—_gasp—"_to Konoha"—_gasp_—"make them all Leaf ninja."

Benihiko shrugged.

Beniasa laughed again. "I don't think so," she said. "I'd rather see them dead."

Then Beniasa brought her left hand, in which was clenched the severed tip of Benihiko's _naginata_, up and around her body, to scrape that blood-drenched shard up the entire line of tattoos on her right arm.


	5. By Daylight

**Author's Note: If you like this story, please read its sequel, "Existence and Uniqueness."**

_By Daylight_

Dawn broke over the ravaged hillsides. Great trees lay fallen in the underbrush, amidst ripped and torn greenery, beside raw open pits newly gouged into the earth. Over it all, pooling in the low places and glistening like the dew, was blood. Its heavy scent filled the air, and its crimson hue echoed the first red rays of sunlight. Here and there were puddles inexplicably distant from the site of any battle, at whose centers rested a few shapeless scraps of cloth, metal, flesh. Ringed by six such puddles, sheltered in a copse of young pines, were Sakura, Tenten, Hinata, and Lee.

"Sakura," said Tenten, reaching over to wake her teammate, "it's day. The sun is up."

Sakura roused slowly and uncurled from her uncomfortable position against the trunk of a tree. From across the motionless figure of Lee Tenten peered at her with haunted, bloodshot eyes.

Sakura reached out to either side of her, to lay her hands on the bodies of her fallen comrades. Under her palms she felt two chests rising and falling, two hearts beating out a faint but steady rhythm.

"They're all right," she breathed. "Tenten, they're alive. Both of them."

Tenten pressed her hands to her face and did not answer immediately. When she finally uncovered her face her eyes were a little moist. But her voice was steady as she said, "That's good. Do you think they're strong enough to be carried back to the village?"

Sakura nodded. "Hinata certainly is. Lee has to get to the hospital as soon as possible regardless of the damage moving him might do. All I managed to do last night was stabilize him – he's not out of danger yet."

Tenten struggled to her feet, using a tree branch to pull herself up. She then turned and offered a hand to Sakura. "You did a lot," she said as she pulled Sakura to her feet. "You saved Lee's life."

Tenten had found Sakura during the night, hiding in this copse while she treated Hinata. Slung over Tenten's shoulder, dripping rivulets of blood onto her clothing, was Lee. His injuries had been grievous indeed – Sakura counted sixteen puncture wounds, all of them running from the front of his body out through the back. The purple sculptures with which he had been struck had damaged both his internal organs and his chakra network, causing him to hemorrhage blood as well as chakra at an alarming rate.

"It's my fault," Tenten had said. "He was looking for my _kunai_ when he got hit. If I had just told him to forget about it, this would never have happened." Her voice had been higher than normal, on the edge of panic. "Sakura, you have to help him!"

But Sakura had just used up most of her chakra on Hinata, leaving none for Lee. She did not even have enough to stop his bleeding, much less begin to repair the damage done to his organs. She had told this to Tenten, fighting to keep her voice from breaking.

"If chakra is the problem," Tenten had replied urgently, thrusting her hands toward Sakura as if in supplication, "then use mine!"

So that's exactly what Sakura did – used Tenten's chakra to close the worst of Lee's wounds, in a process that left both kunoichi shaking with exhaustion. There had been no question of starting back for the village or going in search of Benihiko and Neji after that. They had both just slumped mutely to the ground – only to be awakened, minutes later, by the arrival of Chyoubi reinforcements.

Three men and three women had surrounded them, calling taunts and challenges into the trees. In silence Sakura had drawn a _kunai_ and handed it to Tenten, then taken one for herself. They did not speak, just stood back-to-back, knowing there would be no escape this time but determined to go down fighting anyway.

Then the six sculptors had exploded.

Their quickly silenced screams would stay with Sakura a long time, as would the sight of black blades erupting from their bodies, tearing them apart from within. In seconds, all that remained of their attackers was a disintegrating pile of ripped clothes and organic mush.

Now, as the sun climbed higher, Sakura could clearly see the six congealing puddles surrounding their position. Near each one was a discarded edged weapon, dropped by its wielder in the throes of death. Professional curiosity made her approach one of the puddles to get a better look. "What do you suppose happened to them?" she asked Tenten.

Tenten was already bending down to lift Lee carefully onto her back. "I don't know," she said without turning around. "But whatever it was, it was sure lucky for us. Should we go back to the village now, or try to find Neji and Benihiko?"

Sakura frowned. She just wasn't sure – Lee needed immediate medical care, but Neji and Benihiko might too, and anyway it was their duty to find their captain and report in.

"You should do both," said a male voice from nearby, and then they saw Neji and Benihiko striding toward them through the trees.

***

Neji had sent Tenten and Sakura ahead with Lee and Hinata, and now only he and Benihiko remained in the little copse of pines. He had told her to wait for him and then gone back into the forest alone, and when he returned it was to find her exactly as he had left her – sitting cross-legged on the ground, staring blankly into the distance.

He really was not good at this, he thought as he moved around the copse adding objects to the bag he'd brought back with him. Hinata would have been a much better choice, if only she hadn't been injured.

But as Neji straightened and glanced at the still motionless Benihiko, he saw again the vision that had plagued him throughout the night: Her, kneeling alone in an isolated clearing, baring her tattooed arm to the moonlight, clenching her jaw. Then a flash of silver and a cry of pain that was not devoid of joy, as she cut herself free from one life in order to gain another. He knew then that he could not wait for Hinata or anyone else, that to speak to this woman, now, was _his_ task.

He moved closer to her and crouched down a few feet away, looking together with her off into the forest. He set the bag on the ground between them, and from it issued the sound of many metallic objects striking one another.

Benihiko's eyes flicked toward it. "What is that?" she asked. Her voice was a bit hoarse, as she had not spoken in some time.

"Those are the personal weapons of every member of your clan," said Neji. "There are no bodies to bury, so I thought they might do instead." He had returned to his teammates' battle sites and to the remains of the camp, and taxed the last of his chakra searching the woods with his Byakugan, to find them all. In a thorny thicket not far from the camp he had located the remains of the noncombatants, who like their kinsmen had each carried a unique edged weapon. Some of them had been small, as if sized for children, and among the mess of blood and gore he had spotted a child's toy, abandoned where its owner had fallen.

Benihiko was now staring at the bag of weapons. She looked quite as stunned as if he had slapped her. "That . . . was a good idea. Thank you," she said at last.

Neji nodded, then reached inside the bag to remove something – the _naginata_. "Except this one," he added, tossing it to Benihiko. "Tenten may be wanting that back."

Benihiko caught it and held it up, letting the sunlight catch on the jagged edge of its broken blade. Her grip tightened on the oaken shaft. "I don't think so," she said bitterly. "No one would want this now. It's broken, useless." Then she cast it down on top of the bag, where it landed with a muffled clang.

Neji took it up again and pretended to examine it closely. Benihiko watched him with narrowed eyes. "You're wrong," he said eventually. "It is still a fine weapon. It can be remade."

Benihiko snorted and turned away. "I get it," she said scornfully. "You think there's still something for me in Konoha. But you're wrong – that life is over now. It ended when my mother slaughtered my clan."

Neji sighed and returned the _naginata _to the bag. "Benihiko," he said, "you asked me yesterday why I call Hinata 'Hinata-sama.'"

She shrugged. "Did I?"

"Yes. I do it because she is a member of the Hyuuga family's main branch, while I am a member of a side branch. My family is subordinate to hers and thus I must address her with respect."

"So?"

"So to maintain control over the branch family, every one of its members is given a curse mark by the head of the clan. This is mine." Neji reached up and untied his forehead protector, and turned his head so that Benihiko could get a full view of his face. Stamped across his forehead, lit by the clear morning light, was the livid blue mark he'd received at the age of four.

Benihiko stared at him, interested in spite of herself. It was uncomfortable for Neji, who rarely showed the curse mark to anyone, to see those sharp green eyes fixed on his bare forehead. He felt terribly exposed.

"What does it do?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"At a hand sign from the clan leader, it will cause me pain. It can also be used to kill."

"Like our tattoos."

"Yes, but this mark cannot be removed, not even through the sacrifice of a limb. I will carry it until I die, at which time it will seal up my eyes forever."

Finally she looked down at the ground. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked. "From what you say, even in Konoha there is no such thing as choice, or freedom. The new life I wanted was only an illusion."

"There was a time," said Neji slowly, turning his white eyes skyward, "that I would have agreed with you. I was very angry then, at the fate that put this mark on me and locked me into an inescapable destiny." He paused to watch a flock of birds passing overhead, headed north to the village. "But not anymore."

"So you've given up then? That sounds about right – if I had just borne my fate in silence my clan would still be alive."

"I did not say," said Neji sharply, "that I had given up. If I could I would still tear this mark from my head. But that is not possible. What _is_ possible is to make of this mark, and my skill, and my life a shape of my own design. To use the strength you have to defend the ones you choose – that is a form of freedom I did not understand before, but which I have had all along."

He looked back at her then, to see if she understood what he was trying to say. If he, branded with an indelible mark of subservience, could find his liberation in Konoha and its will of fire, then surely she, strong enough to sever a limb and sculpt a new destiny from the bloody torrent, could do the same. She sat beside him, the last survivor of her clan, the sole repository of a unique _kekkei genkai_, and he could tell that she was poised on a knife-edge between hope and despair.

"This freedom of yours," she asked at last, eyes glistening with uncried tears, "is it enough?"

Neji retied his forehead protector and got to his feet. "I think so," he replied.

Benihiko wiped her eyes and stood too. As he reached for the bag of weapons she held up a hand – the red sculpted hand – to stop him, then bent down and took out the _naginata_. She balanced it on her shoulder and turned toward the north. "Then let's go back," she said.


End file.
